


To Fill The Void

by lostinmymindforever



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bloodplay, Dark Dean Winchester, Fallen Angels, Knifeplay, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Sam 'Boy King of Hell' Winchester, Serial Killers, Submissive/Bottom Castiel, Submissive/Bottom Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-18
Updated: 2013-01-18
Packaged: 2017-11-25 23:50:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/644266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostinmymindforever/pseuds/lostinmymindforever





	1. Chapter 1

Dean isn’t sure how it started, he isn’t sure when whatever innocence he had left slipped away and the monster he became was born. Part of Dean thinks it happened during the fire, the fire that took his family from him, the fire that left him an orphan with a hole the size of his baby brother in his soul that grew over time like little Sammy should have. 

Dean grew up being tossed from one foster family to the next, each new house killing off a piece of his innocence until he was empty. He found a way to fill that void when he was 16 and his foster father got a little too hands on with him. It was only by pure chance that it had happened in the kitchen that time, too often it had happened in the bedroom where Dean was defenseless, but that time he had been able to grab a knife. When all was said and done and his foster father was nothing but a bloody corpse on the kitchen floor Dean realized he had never felt more alive. He kicked the man’s body and had calmly went upstairs to collect his few meager possessions before taking off in the man’s precious ‘67 Impala. 

When he was miles away, still covered in blood, Dean pulled over, laughing for the first time in years. If taking a life could make him feel alive, so be it. The world could do with a few less people. He found a truck stop and cleaned up the best he could, making his second kill when someone tried stopping him from leaving. 

Dean worked his way across the country leaving a trail of corpses in his wake. It was surprising that he was never caught, but in those early years most of the people he killed were either criminals or drifters or people who wouldn’t be missed. It wasn’t until Dean was almost 21 that he would kill his first innocent, and the rush that kill gave him was unlike anything he had felt before. That was also the first kill he had had to touch himself after, coming harder than he had ever came before. 

The girl was sweet, that’s the only way Dean could have described her. Sweet and innocent and looking for a kind stranger to give her a ride home. Dean hadn’t been planning on killing her, but something about that sweet young face had drawn out the monster that lurked inside of him. Her screams had been so loud, but Dean knew they wouldn’t be heard, not where he had taken her. He had carved her flesh like she was some morbid piece of art, and as she lay in a pool of her own blood, her final breaths falling from her lips Dean had found it impossible to stop himself as his hand moved into his pants to stroke and caress himself to orgasm. She was also the first body he burned, not wanting to leave any evidence of himself on her corpse for when she was found, and they were always found. 

And so Dean started adding in innocents to his normal selection, but over time found that the criminals and lowlifes didn’t cut it anymore, not like the innocents. It was never about sex, not with them, Dean didn’t see his victims that way, as objects to play with in a sexual manner, they were to be killed for his amusement nothing else. If he wanted sex he could get it, quite easily in fact, he used his good looks to his advantage.

It bugged him a bit, the fact that he was never caught, never thought to be a suspect, even when he was the logical choice. A drifter, new in town, the last one seen with his victims, and yet never once was he questioned. For a while he didn’t even realize that fact, but by the time he was 26 with a body count in the hundreds he should have been questioned, even once, but it never happened. He thanked whatever force was looking out for someone like him, offering praise after the first cut every time.

It was sometime after Dean’s 27th birthday when he first saw him, the dark haired man watching from the shadows. At first he thought he was seeing things, thinking that his insanity was finally catching up to him. But after six months and 12 more kills the man was still around, silent, watching, almost as if he was guarding Dean, protecting him from detection. It wasn’t long after that Dean decided to approach him, cornering him, blade drawn, face a mask of indifference while his mind was filled with questions.

He ran his blade lightly along the man’s throat, watching as the other man swallowed hard, pupils blown wide with fear and arousal. Dean wasn’t sure what made him do what he did next, but he found himself grabbing the other man by the hair, the knife still at his throat as he kissed him hard. The blue eyed man allowed Dean’s attack, moaning when the knife broke skin, blood dripping down his throat onto his trenchcoat. Dean was hard, almost as hard as when he killed. He could hear screaming from behind him, looking back at his most recent victim, this pretty little college girl, blonde, green eyed, just Dean’s type, and yet his attention was most focused on the stranger. 

“Stay put,” he ordered the man, who nodded, leaning back against the wall, cock obviously hard in his pants as he watched Dean go to work.

Dean’s blades moved like lightning, carving and slashing and completely destroying the girl, and yet Dean had never seen a more beautiful sight. He was barely back over to the other man when he was shoved against the wall, the stranger dropping to his knees and taking Dean into his mouth, sucking him hard and fast, making Dean cum so hard that his vision blacked out briefly.

“Who the hell are you?” Dean asked, when he finally got his voice back, licking his lips as the other man looked up at him from his position on his knees.

“My name is Castiel.”


	2. Chapter 2

Growing up he had always known the family raising him wasn’t his own. Sam wasn’t stupid, he knew he was human, mostly at least, and the people who raised him were demons. Sam had been taught and trained his whole life for his destiny as the Boy King, and he liked it. But something always troubled him, something kept telling him that all wasn’t as it seemed. By the time Sam was 18 he began to hear whispers amongst his “family” and their friends, whispers that spoke of a sacrifice, whispers that troubled Sam. 

Looking back Sam knew what his family’s biggest mistake was, it was teaching him how to kill demons. When they tried to force him into something he didn’t want Sam killed them all with a thought, burning the house to the ground as he left. He moved around, aimless, never staying in one place too long as everywhere he went he seemed to draw attention to himself, be it the attention of demons or other supernatural beings or even unwanted human attention. 

Sam knew he was being followed, he had felt it for months, a presence he couldn’t begin to describe. He had noticed a man every so often, a seemingly ordinary man to everyone else’s eyes, but Sam knew the man was no ordinary human, he had a power about him that called to Sam. After many months of leading the man around the country Sam decided that enough was enough and that he would have words with his stalker.

Trapping the man went easier than Sam had expected, and that should have been his first clue that all was not right, that it was as if the other man was expecting this and had willingly allowed Sam to capture him. Now that Sam had the man in his clutches he could feel the power radiating off of him, and it terrified him in a way nothing ever had before.

“Who are you and why do you follow me?” Sam asked, voice cold, trying not to let out the fear he felt.

The shorter man laughed, his amber eyes seeming to glow with mischief, “Now isn’t that the question, Sam. Who do you think I am? Why do you think I follow you?”

The questions angered Sam and he grabbed the other man by his shirt, shoving him hard against a wall. “Don’t answer my questions with questions. I am in no mood for games.”

“Of course the big bad Boy King of Hell is in no mood for games. You can’t stand not being in control, can you Sam? Can’t stand not knowing who or what I am?” the man smirked, moving quickly to reverse their positions. He watched as Sam swallowed hard, moving his hand to circle Sam’s throat, “I could end you easily, Boy, don’t think otherwise.”

Sam tried to fight against the man’s grip, fear and anger filling him in equal measure, along with a healthy dose of arousal. He groaned, trying to will his body to stop reacting to the man in front of him, trying and failing to stop his cock from growing hard as the man leaned against him, hand tightening around Sam’s neck making it hard to breathe. Sam shouldn’t be liking this, he shouldn’t be arching into the man literally holding his life in his hands and yet Sam couldn’t stop, couldn’t stop the moan that slipped past his lips as he looked down into amused amber eyes.

“You like that idea, that someone could have that much control over you. That someone is stronger than you can ever imagine, don’t you, Sam?”

Sam answered, hating himself for his words, “Yes, I do.”

The man released Sam, laughing as he fell to his knees gasping for breath. He reached down, running his fingers through Sam’s hair, “Good Boy. Now that we have that cleared up I’ll tell you who I am.” He smirked down at Sam, “Might as well make yourself useful while you’re down there,” opening his jeans. 

Sam moaned, knowing what was being asked of him, he shouldn’t want to do this, shouldn’t want to let this man take control, he was Heir to the Throne of Hell, he shouldn’t be on his knees about to service some being he had didn’t even know the name of. And yet he wanted, he had lived his whole life being molded to rule, to control, and being able to give himself over was freeing. So Sam leaned forward, taking the other man’s cock into his mouth, sucking and licking the flesh with an innocence he shouldn’t still possess.

“Such a Good Boy,” the man whispered. He laughed lightly, “Imagine what Hell would say if they saw their Boy King on his knees for a fallen angel. Imagine what Lucifer would say if he could see you on your knees for me, servicing me, letting me own you.” He could feel Sam pause, the young man looking up at him, “Oh yes, I am an angel, though don’t worry your pretty little head, Sammy, Heaven doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore. I’ve fallen too far for their tastes.” He grabbed Sam by the back of his head, thrusting into his mouth hard and fast, making Sam choke. He laughed, “Look at you, taking it like the little Hell slut you are.”

Sam continued what he was doing, letting the angel’s words wash over him. He had never been in a position like this before, and he liked it much to his embarrassment, liked it so much he came in his pants, his cock untouched. He moaned around the angel’s cock, causing him to thrust a few more times into Sam’s mouth before he came with a loud moan. When Sam was pulled off of him, the angel smirked again.

“I could used to that, how about you, Sammy? Think you could get used to being my little bitch, to letting me use you whenever and however I see fit.” 

Sam nodded up at him, still in shock at what had happened, “Please, tell me your name. I’m yours, I just, I want to know whose name to scream when you fuck me.”

The angel laughed, pulling Sam to his feet. He leaned up, whispering into Sam’s ear, “Gabriel, my name is Gabriel.


	3. Chapter 3

Castiel knew he was falling. He knew he had begun to fall as soon as he set his eyes on Dean Winchester. And yet Castiel refused to leave the man. He had his orders, protect Dean Winchester at all costs, no matter what happened. He was to make sure that nothing would stop the man from fulfilling his destiny, even if it meant covering his tracks and preventing human authorities from catching Dean and punishing him from his many crimes. Castiel had been following Dean for years, ever since the man had made his first kill all those years earlier. He wasn’t supposed to allow Dean to know about his presence, but something drew him to the man, called to him even more intensely than Heaven itself. 

Castiel had cut ties with Heaven years ago, trusting that his orders still stood, trusting that if anything changed he would be found and told otherwise, but he no longer could stand the voices of his brothers and sisters, their angry words, their hatred towards the man who captured Castiel’s attention. By now Castiel knew that even if his brothers and sisters would come to stop Dean he would end them, he would fight to his last moment to save his human. When he realized that Castiel decided to let Dean know of his presence.

He wasn’t prepared for the knife at his throat, nor was he prepared for the arousal his vessel felt as Dean cut him, as he watched Dean kill. He wasn’t prepared for the feeling of rightness that filled him when his mouth was roughly fucked by the human, the man’s body on edge from the rush the kill had given him. He wasn’t prepared to have himself pulled to his feet and spun around, Dean’s fingers opening his body quickly without any care for Castiel’s well being. He wasn’t prepared to feel himself give himself completely to the human as he thrust into him hard, Dean’s blade at his throat once more, dragging a moan out of Castiel’s mouth.

His human used his body for his pleasure, and Castiel let him, moaning like a whore, thrusting back into each brutal slam of Dean’s hips as the man fucked him hard and fast, the edge of his knife splitting Castiel’s skin open, spilling trails of hot red down onto his white shirt. Castiel could feel Dean’s mouth on his neck, biting his skin, leaving marks Castiel knew would never stay. He gave himself over to the sensations that were being torn from his body, screaming as his orgasm ripped through him like lightning. He panted harshly, body violently shaking as Dean continued to thrust into him hard and fast. He could hear a guttural scream in his ear as Dean came inside of him, the knife digging deeper into Castiel’s flesh.

Dean pulled out of him, shoving him away, causing Castiel to fall to his knees. He looked up at the human, not caring about the bloody wounds covering his neck. He should feel violated, but could feel nothing but want and need and a sense of peace he never even felt while he was in Heaven. He watched as Dean paced the room, the man looked lost, as if something had broken inside his already broken mind.

“Dean, please, let me help you. Let me do what I was sent to do and help you however I can.”

Those words seemed to anger Dean, and for a brief moment Castiel felt the urge to back away from him, but he had sworn to do whatever it took to take care of Dean, no matter the consequences.

“What the fuck do you mean you were sent?” Dean asked angrily, grabbing Castiel by the shirt, yanking him once more to his feet.

“I was sent to watch over you, Dean. To protect you, to keep human authorities away from you. Who do you think has been covering your tracks for the last eleven years? You have a destiny, Dean Winchester, a destiny that you were born to fulfill. Only you can stop what is to come, and if you don’t, if you fail the world will end. You have your destiny, as does your brother.”

Dean punched him in the face hard, hard enough to make Castiel’s vision go black for a second. He could feel the man’s fists impacting with his flesh again and again, and yet he took it, took it willingly, knowing full well that Dean had had no clue that Sam was still alive.

“You lying bastard. My brother is dead, he’s been dead for over twenty years. Don’t you dare talk about him. I don’t know who you are, but I should kill you for thinking you can play me like this.”

Castiel took the beating, staying silent as Dean pummeled him, waiting for the man to wear himself out. But as the minutes passed Castiel realized that Dean’s anger was feeding him, giving him strength and stamina and he wouldn’t be stopping anytime soon. When Dean’s fist flew at him the next time he grabbed it, stopping the blow. “You are angry, I know that, but continuing this is pointless. Your brother didn’t die in the fire, Dean, he was taken. Taken and raised to be the Boy King of Hell, taken to be groomed to be Lucifer’s perfect vessel. I know you don’t believe me, why would you, but I am telling the truth. I’m an angel. It’s my duty to protect you, to guide you to your true path, to help you stop Lucifer from destroying the world.”

Dean laughed bitterly, “And what if I want this world to burn, what then?”

“Then I help you. I have sworn an oath to stay at your side no matter what the cost, Dean.”

Before Castiel could say another word he felt Dean’s blade being slammed into his heart. He looked down, amused and angered at the same time. “I told you that I am an angel, Dean. That knife isn’t going to do a thing to me, not permanently anyway.” He pulled the blade out of his chest, handing it back to Dean. “Do what you will to me, I won’t leave you, I won’t fail you like everyone else has.”


	4. Chapter 4

Gabriel had to stop himself from laughing as he watched Sam take in the room they were in. It was obscene, a large bed covered with silk sheets taking up a good portion of one half of the room, the other half filled with toys beyond compare. He saw Sam eyeing up the collection of whips on the wall, watching the young man swallow with a look of lust covering his face. Gabriel knew that as much as Sam had been trained and taught to take his place as Hell’s heir, there were a lot of things the boy was still innocent of. 

True Sam had killed, killed a lot of people and had liked it. True Sam was one of the most powerful people on the face of the planet, but Gabriel knew that the young man wanted to be controlled, to be owned and made to beg. He shoved Sam towards the bed, watching as Sam let himself be used for Gabriel’s whims. 

“So pretty, Sam. Gonna make you beg for me, gonna make you scream. You want that, don’t you? Want to be my Good Boy?”

Sam nodded at him, licking dry lips nervously as Gabriel prowled around the room. Gabriel moved over to his chest, opening it and pulling out a few small but extremely sharp blades. “Strip for me, Sam, then get on the bed, on your back.”

Sam nodded at him, pulling off his clothing as he watched the angel closely. 

Gabriel smirked at Sam’s prone form, licking his lips in anticipation of what was to come. He shouldn’t be doing this, Sam was off limits to the Host, but Gabriel couldn’t give a damn what they thought, not anymore. The Boy King was his. He grabbed Sam’s wrists, moving them over his head, “Hold onto the headboard until I say otherwise, Sammy.” Gabriel almost moaned when he watched Sam grab the headboard, the young man’s eyes looking at him as if questioning his next order.

Gabriel grinned, there was madness in the look, madness and a darkness. He picked up one of the blades, and in a blur of motion sliced it across Sam’s chest. The move was so quick that Sam didn’t even have time to react to it before Gabriel was leaning forward, dragging his tongue along the wound, lapping up the blood. Sam was moaning under him, but had done as Gabriel ordered, his hands still held tightly onto the headboard, knuckles white from the pressure of holding on so tight. Gabriel made a second pass with his blade, slower this time, slow enough that Sam could feel the cut digging into his flesh.

Sam was panting, face covered with a mix of pain and pleasure. Gabriel smiled once more, repeating his actions, licking the blood off of Sam’s chest before kissing up the young man’s throat. “You’d let me do whatever I wanted to, wouldn’t you?” Gabriel asked, biting down on Sam’s earlobe.

Sam nodded, mind and body overwhelmed with pleasure. His cock was painfully hard, resting against his abs. Gabriel laughed at the sight, here was the Boy King of Hell, acting like he was nothing but a toy to be used for Gabriel’s amusement and loving every second of it. “Looks like you need something, Sammy. Mm, whatever should I do with you?” Gabriel asked, his hand moving to grasp Sam’s cock, stroking up and down the hard length slowly. “Want me to take care of this? Want me to make you cum? Or do you want something else? Want me pounding into you, fucking your tight ass, making you my bitch?”

“Fuck me, please, Gabriel, fuck me,” Sam moaned, eyes wide with lust.

Gabriel let go of Sam’s cock, swatting him on the hip. “Let go of the headboard then turn over on your hands and knees, Sam. Gonna fuck you, make you the little bitch you are.”

Gabriel undressed as he watched Sam do as he was told, part of him amazed at how willingly the young man followed his instructions, but it made sense. Sam was raised to follow the orders of those stronger than him, raised to rule and be ruled himself. Gabriel smirked as he crawled onto the bed, watching how Sam’s body practically vibrated with want and need, begging for his touch. He shoved Sam’s legs apart, which caused Sam to let out a moan. “Fuck, Boy, so damn needy, aren’t you. Need to be fucked, need to be owned, don’t you, Baby?”

“Yes, yes, please, anything,” Sam moaned, his voice raw with lust. Gabriel could tell that the young man needed this, needed something, someone to take control from him, to give Sam something other than the life he was forced into.

Gabriel leaned forward, biting down hard on one of Sam’s ass cheeks, drawing a moan from the human. “No one ever took care of you like this, no one gave you want you needed, did they?” Before Sam could answer Gabriel repeated the bite on the other cheek. Gabriel kissed a path up Sam’s back as his fingers teased at the young man’s asshole, circling the tight ring of muscle with the tips of his fingers. Sam was whimpering and moaning, already begging Gabriel and they hadn’t even gotten to the good part yet.

“So pretty like this, begging me for just a bit more,” Gabriel purred in Sam’s ear as he blindly flipped open the bottle of lube he had placed on the bed. He poured the cool liquid over his fingers, moving his hand back to Sam’s entrance. Sam seemed to melt against him as Gabriel circled the tight hole with his fingers, pushing back as if trying to force the angel’s fingers into him. “Such a needy little slut, aren’t you, Boy King?”

Sam moaned, “Yes, yes, Gabriel, please. Stop teasing and fuck me. Need you inside of me, fuck me hard.” He shoved back, causing Gabriel’s fingers to slip into him, a long pained/pleasured moan falling from his lips. 

“Fuck, so pretty like this, I should keep you like this, all worked up, begging, needy,” Gabriel whispered, hand moving to cover his erection with the lube. He removed his fingers, not caring anymore that Sam wasn’t stretched properly, the boy was asking for it, and he was gonna give it to him, “But not this time, gonna split you open, make you hurt, make you scream.” He slammed into Sam’s body, causing the young man to scream in a mixture of pain and pleasure. Sam was so tight, a virgin just like Gabriel had thought, and yet, thankfully, when Gabriel looked down there was no blood. 

“You were made for this, made to be fucked, made to have your tight little ass pounded into. So perfect, Baby, gonna keep you, gonna make sure my asshole brother doesn’t get his hands on you.” Gabriel continued to fuck Sam hard and fast until the young man was a quivering mess. He fucked Sam until the boy had cum so many times he was coming dry, and only then did Gabriel finally let himself go.

As he lay on the bed watching Sam as he rested fitfully, Gabriel swore to himself that no matter what, Lucifer would never take Sam as his vessel. It was then Gabriel decided to look up another one of his brothers, one whose fall had happened recently, one who would stand at his side and help him protect Sam. 

Castiel.


End file.
